


SCREW 38B

by FionaGlenanneWesten



Category: Burn Notice
Genre: Cute, F/M, Fluffy, IKEA, IKEA Furniture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-11-04 16:49:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17901848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FionaGlenanneWesten/pseuds/FionaGlenanneWesten
Summary: I finally wrote the IKEA prompt for my OTP.Just what it sounds like, Michael&Fi put together IKEA furniture.100% rated G (maybe a little suggestive, but seriously, a child could read this). Just sweet, shippy fluff.





	SCREW 38B

“Ow!” Michael exclaimed as one of what he was pretty sure was **SCREW 38A** hit him in the forehead.

“Oh c’mon, it didn’t hurt you that much,” Fiona retorted, the slight change in her voice revealing that she instantly felt a little bad for doing it, especially since it had whacked him a little harder than she had intended and screw first so it left a little mark on his forehead.

She pounced gracefully through the rubble of unassembled components into Michael's lap.

“Lemme kiss it better,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck and planting several kisses on his forehead.

“Fi!” Michael exclaimed, squirming. “We’ve been at this for 4 hours. We’re never gonna get this done if you keep distracting me.”

“Would that be such a bad thing?” she said, loosening her arms, but leaving herself draped over him.

Fiona grabbed the instructions.

“Screw **SCREW 38A** into **SCREW 38B** …” she read. “I could be screw B, if you wanted me too…” she teased, tickling his chest.

“Fi, there isn’t even a clear patch of floor where we could do that without one of us getting stabbed by a screw,” Michael said.

Fiona pulled back and pouted.

“Fine,” she huffed, gathering screws. “Where’s all the **SCREW 38A** s & **B** s?”

She picked several screws off the floor before looking up and turning to Michael.

“We have a problem,” she said.

“What?” asked Michael.

“We have 5 **38A** s, but only 4 **38B** s,” she said.

“Is that by any chance the one you threw at my head?” Michael asked.

“No,” Fiona said. “I threw a **38A** at you, it’s the first one I picked up.”

“Can we move on without it?” Michael asked.

“I guess,” said Fiona. “I hope it’ll hold up with only 4 of them in.”

“Okay,” Michael said, picking up the instruction sheet. “Now we need **SCREW 42A** & **B**.”

“Umm…Here,” Fiona said, picking up the 4 components distractedly and putting them in her hand. She held her palm out to Michael, who picked the screws out of her outstretched palm.

Michael has just finished putting the last of the **SCREW 42** s in when he noticed Fiona was still neurotically picking through the mess of screws on the floor.

“Fi, you okay?” Michael asked.

“Yes,” Fiona said. She looked up and met eyes with Michael. “I just don’t like the idea of that little screw all alone without its screw husband.”

“Fi, it’s a screw…” Michael started.

“I just don’t want it to be all alone…” Fiona started.

She looked up at Michael with puppy dog eyes.

“All alone in Ireland, doesn’t know if its spy-screw husband is alive or dead…”

“Fi…”

“Maybe the guy who burned its spy-screw husband is holding it hostage and it can’t get to him and now it’s in screw-jail…” Fiona trailed off, looking up at Michael through her eyelashes and she actually thought she saw the glimmer of sadness in his eyes for the poor little lost screw.

“Fi, we’ll find the screw,” he said.

“Good,” said Fiona.

“Now, can you help me find all the **SCREW 47A** & **B** s?”

Fiona instantly returned her attention to the floor and started pickup all of the specified screw off the floor.

After another 4 hours and several stabbed fingers later, the bookshelf was finally assembled and Michael triumphantly picked something up off the floor and twirled it in his fingers.

“Fi,” he said. “Look what I found.”

He satisfiedly held up the black hex-bolt in his fingers.

“You found it!” Fiona pounced on Michael and kissed him before taking the bolt in her fingers and screwing it onto the un-paired screw sticking out of the bookcase without climbing off of Michael.

She looked at it triumphantly.

“Now it’s perfect,” she said. “The way it’s supposed to be.”

She kissed Michael softly on the lips again.

“Yeah,” Michael said. “Perfect…”


End file.
